


Beauty and Hatred

by ghostgirl19



Category: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: 'Major Character Death' is Link, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Cross-Posted on Tumblr, F/M, Pre-Calamity, Romance, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, some spice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-14 13:34:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28546443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostgirl19/pseuds/ghostgirl19
Summary: A Zelink soulmate au in which a person has their soulmate's first thought about them tattooed on their wrist
Relationships: Link/Zelda (Legend of Zelda)
Comments: 15
Kudos: 160





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just wanted to post this on here so it doesn't get lost in the depths of Tumblr xD

Zelda couldn’t be more delighted with her soulmate. The Goddess may not have answered her prayers for help in accessing her sacred power, but at least fate was kind enough to bestow onto her such a charming man to spend the rest of her life with.

He’s nice, considerate, amusing when he wants to be, and immensely talented. Why, it was that talent that brought her to realize that they’re meant to be together.

 _Beautiful_ , in all its elegant, swooping lettering has graced her wrist since the day she was born. Beautiful, must be what he thought upon seeing her for the first time, and ‘twas her beauty he sang of in the first ballad he composed for her.

It was only natural that she concluded that he was to be her intended.

The court and her father likely wouldn’t be pleased that a mere bard is her soulmate—she _is_ the Crown Princess, after all—but Zelda can’t bring herself to care about their objections. Not that their opinions would affect her in the slightest, by any means. For not even her father, with all the power he has, would dare to stand in the way of the fate handed to her by the Goddesses.

However, as happy as she is that she met her soulmate, she can’t help but regret that a dark stain taints the day she met him.

For it was also the day that _he_ , the keeper of the sword that seals the darkness, the youngest ever to be in the Royal Guard, and in general the bane of her existence, was presented to her along with the declaration from her father that he was to be her appointed knight.

She hated him at first sight. He may have proven to be a master of concealing his emotions, but she was not. He must have understood how she felt in the way her upper lip curled in disdain, or how her eyes narrowed in a seething glare, or how her hands, usually clasped in front of her, had balled into tight, white-knuckled fists.

The tingling she felt in her belly when she laid eyes on him was strange, but she chalked it up to be an inner manifestation of her intense hatred of him. He, with the gleaming, holy blade strapped to his back that served as a beacon of hope to Hyrule, while mocking her for her own inadequacies in securing her destiny.

She already knows she’s a failure. Does she really deserve to have a physical reminder of it shoved in her face every day?

And if that wasn’t enough, his eyes are constantly on her, watching her every move. Whenever they’re together, which unfortunately consists of her every waking hour, she can always feel that set of piercing blues boring holes into her back.

He never took his eyes off her during their introduction—which was honestly a bit unnerving and coaxed that odd tingly feeling in her stomach to return—only lowering them when he had to bow his head and recite the vow promising her his allegiance.

She’d never be rid of that penetrating gaze in the days ahead.

Well. At least she has Harcino to take away some of the pain. Really now, she should be happy that they’re sitting together in the gardens. She should be thinking about the love ballad her soulmate is serenading her with now, not that infuriating knight standing guard over them mere feet away.

She huffs agitatedly. Is he really so boorish that he can’t give her some privacy with her own soulmate?

Harcino’s fingers still on the harp strings. “Princess, is something the matter?”

Drat; he noticed her frustration. Still, the smooth baritone of his voice filled with concern prompts a smile to curl her lips. He’s so sweet and attentive, much better than that stoic statue she has the misfortune of calling her protector.

“No, nothing is wrong. Please, keep playing.”

And he did.

…

Link watches the scene before him.

Then, slowly, he lowers his eyes to his left wrist. He removes it from the hilt of the Master Sword that’s unsheathed and pointed to the ground. Balancing his right hand on the pommel, he begins unwrapping the protective strips of cloth secured around his forearm.

He’s lost count of how many times he’s done this since meeting her. He doesn’t know why he bothers; it’s not as if the words, in their ugly, black lettering, are going to change.

**I hate you.**

He looks back up.

She’s never been more beautiful.


	2. Chapter 2

Can she sink any lower?

Zelda doesn’t think so. This is beyond morally wrong. No wonder Hylia has proven deaf to her devotion; she deserves to have the Goddess abandon her for committing such blasphemy. 

And yet…and yet…

She can’t find it in herself to feel remorse. That tingly sensation deep in her belly has since blossomed into a warmth that has encompassed her entire body, from the tips of her fingers down to her toes.

 _Yes_ , a voice deep in the back of her mind sighs in bliss. _Yes, yes, yes!_

If this is so wrong, then why does it feel so right?

How did it even come to this? One day she couldn’t stand the sight of him. Then he saved her and they were getting along amicably. And now-

“Ah!”

Her eyes slip open. He’s at the base of her throat, a patch of skin still caught between his teeth from where he administered the gentle, yet reprimanding nip. He meets her glazed eyes with his own heated gaze, although his holds a trace of displeasure.

He’s usually fond of the tendency for her mind to wander. However, he hates it if he doesn’t have all her attention during these stolen moments, and is willing and able to bring her back to reality—i.e., him—by whatever means necessary.

Usually, it’s a quick bite to her neck. More to bring her to awareness than to inflict pain. Other times, if he’s feeling particularly vindictive, he’ll torture her to further oblivion by licking and sucking on the spot until a mark appears.

Of course, he’s always clever enough to place it where it’s just barely hidden beneath the high collar of her dress.

But he doesn’t do that today. Zelda stops him before he can.

“Link, we shouldn’t do this.”

How many times has she voiced this? And how many times did she dive right back in for more?

“Why?” he murmurs against the hollow of her throat. A swipe of his tongue; that’s the beginning of his routine. Somehow, Zelda snags the smidge of clarity she has left and uses it to tug on the loose locks of his hair to bring his focus back to her eyes.

She tore out the band securing his lower ponytail long ago. An annoying hindrance, it is. It gets in the way of her sifting fingers.

“Because it isn’t right,” she says, and it’s true. This isn’t right in the slightest degree. “I’m cheating on my soulmate.”

His lips stretch to a grin, and he laughs under his breath at the irony of it all.

“No, you’re not.”

“Then what do you call this?” she demands in a snappish whisper.

A beat passes. Then,

“Practice.”

“I’m sorry?”

“You’re forgiven.”

She narrows her eyes, and he chuckles.

“Consider it practice for when you’re more…intimate with your soulmate. Because as far as I know, you haven’t crossed that threshold yet.”

He pauses. His grip tightens on her waist. Then his eyes settle into a glare of their own.

“Have you?”

“Of-Of course not!” she sputters, a flush of embarrassment lighting her cheeks. How dare he assume that of her?! Although, can she really blame him, when she has a soulmate and she’s taking part in these scandalous acts with another man?

Hmm. Actually, if she takes his excuse…then it really isn’t all that bad, is it? Practice is just that: practice. It’s preparation for the real thing, and this, what they have between themselves, isn’t the real thing.

The thought shouldn’t disappoint her as much as it does.

Still, something doesn’t add up.

“Then shouldn’t I practice with my soulmate?”

“You should,” he agrees, before surging up and claiming her lips in a rough, and dare she say possessive, kiss.


	3. Chapter 3

She is selfish.

Zelda has considered this for quite a while, but has only accepted it until now.

Only a selfish person would foolishly believe that they can pursue knowledge of the ancient technology and still entirely devote themselves to the Goddess.

Perhaps she is also despicable.

For a truly selfish and despicable person would string along an innocent poet, letting him think she loved him, and then go behind his back to give her affections to another man.

She tried to stop their arrangement. Oh, Hylia, did she try. But she was drawn to Link like a moth to a flame, helpless to his allure, and had grown to crave for the burn only he could provide.

She never did understand why, considering Harcino is her soulmate and not Link. According to all logic, her feelings towards Link should’ve been directed to Harcino. Nonetheless, it was selfish to believe that she could satisfy the Goddesses by spending time with her soulmate, while satisfying herself by indulging in the exhilarating passion Link offered.

She couldn’t have both. She knew she’d have to make a decision one day, but she never imagined the circumstances of how it would happen.

She could’ve sought out her soulmate in the overtaken castle. She could’ve tirelessly searched for him in the fleeing throngs of citizens trying to escape the burning wreckage of what was once Castle Town. She could’ve put her foot down and demanded they not leave Hyrule Field until she was reunited with her soulmate.

She did none of those things. Worse yet, she didn’t think of Harcino at all during the chaos. There was her father, the Champions, the Divine Beasts, her people helpless to the power of the corrupted Guardians rampaging throughout the land.

But at the forefront of her mind, was distress for the fate of the man that held tightly to her hand while leading her away from danger.

Without realizing it, she had made her decision.

She didn’t deserve Hylia’s power. She rejected the soulmate the Goddesses so graciously gave her. Some people never found their soulmate and were doomed to wander alone, fruitlessly searching for the rest of their lonely lives. She was lucky to find him when she did.

And yet she turned her back on him and chose an entirely different man.

Hylia would never deem her worthy of her power now. With the Champions dead, the Divine Beasts corrupted, and Link on his last legs, it appeared that all hope was lost. Anyone would’ve hung their head and given up.

But she is selfish.

_Not him. Not him, too. You will not take him away from me!_

Evidently, so is Hylia. And she is despicable, too. For only a truly selfish and despicable deity would so cruelly rip away her most important person just when she believed she managed to save him with the holy power that eluded her for years.

This divine power, and she couldn’t even save the one who mattered most in the end.

Is this her punishment for defying fate?

Her eyes rove over his motionless body cradled in her arms. It’s a bit difficult to see clearly through her tears, but she strives to commit his image to memory. And maybe she clutches him a little tighter, not ready to let him go.

She _is_ selfish, after all.

His left arm catches her attention, notably his wrist. There’s a slash through the protective cloth wrapped around it, likely from a Guardian that nicked him with a claw. Throughout the sea of red, though, there’s a smudge of black that she can’t make out.

Curious, she gingerly picks up his wrist. She doesn’t want to hurt him further, and it’s stupid to think that, because logically he won’t ever feel anything again, let alone pain.

She’s gentle anyway.

She removes the cloth, and there, in harsh, ugly black lettering, are three words that has the blood draining from her face.

**I hate you.**

_She hated him at first sight._

_He never took his eyes off her during their introduction._

_“I’m cheating on my soulmate.”_

_“No, you’re not.”_

It can’t be. It…can’t be. The world isn’t that cruel, is it?

She lifts up her wrist.

There, to her horror, the red, elegant script reading ‘Beautiful’ fades away, just like the life of her true soulmate.

Her anguished scream rents the air for all the survivors of the broken kingdom to hear.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is, the final part! Thank you for reading and commenting :)

_All is not lost._

_You can still save him._

_Save our hero._

_All is not lost._

She can still recall the feeling of immense hope that sparked in her heart. Link, her true soulmate, could be saved. He could be living and breathing and smiling and in her arms once more.

Granted, it’ll likely take some time. A long time, probably. His memories of them together might not be all there either.

But she was adamant that he be left with the Sheikah Slate, ready for him to take as soon as he awakens. The slate acted as an impeccable guide during her journey of activating the Divine Beasts and researching the flora and fauna of the wild. With the 12 key pictures she left him, the slate should undoubtedly guide him back to her.

And therein lies the question:

To what extent will he return to her?

Will he return to her as a mere shadow of the person he once was, having watched the memories play out with the curious eye of a budding researcher and nothing more? Will he _feel_ anything? Will he truly remember her, her significance to him, and his to her?

Or will the worse scenario happen, wherein he will remember and feel those precious memories from the tumultuous yet rewarding development of their relationship, but then take one look at the horrid script on his wrist and assume the worst?

She cannot let that happen.

“Great Deku Tree, I ask of you, when he returns, can you please relay this message…tell him I-!”

“Now then…words intended for him would sound much better in the tones of your voice, don’t you think?”

No, she doesn’t think that. He’s going to wake up and look at his wrist and think she hates him before she has a chance to prove him wrong. He’ll recall the memory of them together on Irch Plain, see her laughingly hand him a frog to taste, one of her favorite memories of them together, then it’ll end and he’ll look down and read that cursed, black script reading, ‘ **I hate you** ’, and think her affection was a cruel farce and-

And then her wrist starts to strangely feel warm.

Distracted from her inner turmoil that was dangerously ascending towards panic, the new sensation from her wrist prompts her to turn her arm over and take a look.

There, in all elegantly red loops and swirls, reads the letters she had mourned the loss of not even a full day earlier.

_Beautiful_

It’s a bit difficult to see clearly through her tears, but she strives to gaze at the Great Deku Tree and have him commit to memory the depth of her gratitude shining through her watery eyes and warm smile.

“Yes.”


End file.
